Harry Potter and the Year of Love
A/N: I don't own Harry Potter though I do wish I had written the last book because I could not disagree more with the ending. Due to my disagreement with the ending I didn't read the book save the Prologue. It feels as though he (Harry) married his mother, Red hair and all….. Anyways here goes the story. My first one ever! This starts at the end of sixth year. If all goes well it might go into the seventh yr…
Chapter One
A boy of almost seventeen was lying on his back, looking up at the ceiling, replaying the scene of Dumbledore being murdered, which brought back the memory of Sirius being killed on his behalf in the Department of Mysteries.
Two different years, for the same purpose, he had lost the most important people in his life. One whom he had considered the last person who was like a grandfather to him, the closest thing to family he had had left after his godfather, Sirius was killed, Dumbledore.
Nothing anyone could say anything at all to make him forgive himself. It was his fault that both of them were dead. They had been trying to save him, all because he was born and that damn Prophecy. His Mom sacrificed herself and she had died because she loved him, his Dad had right by his mother and him till the end trying to protect his family.
He was back to being alone again as it had been before he knew about Hogwarts, Voldemort or the Magical World at all. Everyone was expecting him to go to Dumbledore's funeral, but he wasn't ready to face his headmaster as of yet. He had not cried for the man he had come to consider as his grandfather because he felt it would be accepting his death. He wasn't ready for that yet. He wasn't ready face the world alone, his courage had left him as he noted his mentor get killed by a man he never thought would have the power to kill the most powerful wizard in the world. He now understood that his hate for Snape was deeper and more focused than it had been before. Snape came a second close to the list of the people he hated, with Voldemort being number one.
Looking at the clock on the wall he sighed, he had five minutes to get to the Quidditch Pitch. He left his dorm-room and dragged his feet down the stairs to the Common Room and out to the Pitch. His heart and head were heavy, and that wasn't the end of it because he ached. He was carrying the weight of both the Muggle and Magical World on his shoulders and he was only sixteen. His shoulders were starting to ache from the heaviness of it. The weight of the job ahead of him, a job bestowed on him before he was even born, weighed down on him until he couldn't properly breathe just from the thought of it.
His job was to save the world, to kill the one wizard who had terrorized people, was terrorizing people and would terrorize people in days or maybe years to come. The saddest thing that made him lose any hope was that he was the only one who was able to save the world, all because he was The Chosen One or The-Boy-Who-Lived. Then he had found out right before his considered grandfather had died the excuse of a human being named Voldemort whom he had kill or killed by, had separated his soul into seven pieces which practically made him immortal unless they were destroyed one by one.
He knew he had to search for the Hocruxes and all but between that time and the end of the battle there was going to be a lot of deaths. He would stop as many as he could and he would do it by himself. He wasn't about to put more people in danger. He knew that his diary was destroyed; the ring Dumbledore died trying to destroy, and another piece of him that was destroyed when he put himself back together in fourth year to get a body. That was three out of the way and four more to go. He had suspicions as to two of them but wasn't sure. He would have to use his time in Privet Drive wisely if he was planning on defeating Riddle.
He got to the ground and noticed everyone had something black on with their robes on top of their clothes, he had chosen to wear all black and not his robe because he felt he had lost his Gryffindor courage along with his mentor. Everyone looked sad and worried and scared all rolled into one, no one was talking to one another and the few that noticed him they would look at him with hope filled and pleading eyes. He could not understand what they wanted from him. He knew he would defeat Voldemort but he would not make it alive either. A new wave of depression set in at that thought until he looked up and saw his two best friends. At least they'll have each other at the end, he thought to himself. Sadness at never having a love like theirs hit him like a wall of bricks. They were standing so close to each other talking quietly to each other but animatedly and he knew they most likely were talking about their relationship, consoling each other about the late Headmaster's death.
A wave of something unsettling went through his body. He couldn't explain the feeling that went through them as he examined their proximity to the other closer. He didn't want to examine it either, because subconsciously he knew where they would lead. Dismissing the feeling to grief and anger for Dumbledore's death he moved in closer to them and stood with his friends as they had stopped talking the moment they saw him. Feeling more alone than ever, he looked over at the people who were sitting in the seats of the pitch and noted the Slytherin students were fewer than any other House. Most of the faces there he recognized as they were from the other three Houses and he had taught most of their upper class students in the DA meeting when that toad faced-wouldn't-be-surprised-if-she-were-a-Death Eater, evil woman Umbridge.
He took a resigned breath and looked at his two best friends and contemplated on whether to tell them about the Hocruxes or not. All they knew was that he was doing to Dumbledore's office to get trained in Occlumency. He decided on waiting till the funeral was done and they were on their way back "home".
"I guess this is it. It's now or never. We say goodbye to the greatest wizard to ever grace this world in our generation," he said as McGonagall stood and Sonorused her voice signaling the start of the service.
Please R&R and tell me if I should continue***